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Pages> Cheshire
Memories Unique Memories From a Bygone Age * *
* * * Wouldn't
it be wonderful if we could know our ancestors day to day activities and how they saw the world as children?
Does anyone really know these types of intimate details of their ancestors from 1620? Isn't that what we would all
consider the "Holy Grail" of Genealogy? Maybe if
Rootsweb stays around a couple of hundred years, our descendants may find some of these musings and know us a little better.
Do you all know you are writing some of the best History for future generations they will ever have? Wish there had been a
list like this and my people had told me these things from long ago. I would have known them far better than I will ever be
able to now. These memories are messages we are sending to our descendants in a time and place we will never see or know. * *
* * *
* * *
* * Does
anyone remember listening to Children’s Hour on the radio, while eating your tea?
Uncle Mac and Winnie the pooh, I can hear his voice now, and Norman
and Henry Bones the detectives, and Toy Town with Dennis the dachshund. You just listened and your imagination did the rest.
Later we listened to Archie Andrews, a ventriloquists dummy on the
radio, and it didn't seem odd at all. Then
there was Journey into Space, Dick Barton Special Agent of course, and his sidekicks Jock and Snowy, known as Snock and Joey
in our house. Eating dried bananas, because you couldn't get real ones, and how precious toys were, they were so scarce.
I had a celluloid doll and when her head got dented my mother tried
to ease out the dent in front of the open fire. The doll got scorched and I was heartbroken.
My mother made her a special bonnet but I never felt the same about
her. I had a
special china dolls-teaset, sent to England from a Belgium family, after VE Day I suppose, but it was so precious I wasn't
allowed to play with it much! I can remember wearing red white and blue ribbons on my plaits for a VE day street party, they
were very thin ribbons as I remember, but such a treat to have something pretty to wear.
Everyone very excited because the War was over, but my father was still out in India, and I could not remember what
he looked like. Plus there was a framed photograph on my grandparents living
room wall of a soldier in uniform, but no-one would talk about him or tell me who he was. Their
living room was lit by gas, the only room that was, and when they lit the gas lamp it hissed and popped.
It was never lit until it was really dark, it meant I couldn't see to read until it was lit. I went up to bed with a candle, I wasn't allowed to carry it ever. One
night my hair got singed when the candle flared. My mother made me gingham
dresses for the summer, and always two pairs of matching knickers. The dresses
had full skirts and you could spin them round. I don't remember sweets, except
for extra strong mints that granddad used to give me, he always had a few in his pocket, "don't tell your
grandma". When the racing
results came on the radio you had to be very quiet indeed, while granddad checked with his paper. The first time I saw
television was the Queens Coronation, it was a terrible picture and it broke down several times.
Later we had a "telly" of our own, and that broke down a lot too, but at the studio, not the set.
We used to watch the potters wheel a lot, and there was the sea breaking over rocks, the interludes were as good as
the programmes sometimes. Beryl
Fooks *
* * *
* * *
* *
* Ah, the merits
of toasting bread in the days before it was bought as sliced bread. You would cut a slice 1" inch thick of stale bread,
form yourself a toasting fork out of a piece of wire, stick the fork into the top edge of the bread and hold it in front of
the embers in a coal fire, while sitting crossed legged, listening to Dick Barton on the radio. We did not have butter, we
used margarine and if you were lucky, some jam. But most times it was Tate and Lyles golden syrup. The toast was consumed
with a large cup of tea with the tea leaves floating on the surface. You used to sieve the tea through your teeth as you
sipped it to keep the tea leaves out. My gran would
pour her tea in to a saucer and blow on it to cool it down, then drink it from
the saucer. Yep!! my gran was the salt of the earth. She was a bar maid in Hulme, Manchester, pulling pints all day long,
she had arms like 'Popeye'. A working class lady, that loved a pint and took snuff on a daily basis. Now that's a sight to
see, her little silver snuff box and cotton hankies tucked neatly into her pinny. Talk about lead
paint on cots being bad for you. My American friends thought it was terrible to be giving a child a cup of tea or coffee.
Many a baby I have seen with tea in their bottle with a drop of whisky in it. This was to settle them down when they were
teething, as ordered by the local family doctor. Remember when we gave the babies a thick piece of hard toast as a Rusk, you
plastered this with a 1/4" thick dollop of butter. They loved it. Cholesterol would be the concern today. Mike Morris,
Toronto, Canada *
* * *
* * *
* * * My mother told
me a few memories of her childhood and I treasure those memories so much. I wish she were alive now so I could ask her
more, but often when I was a little girl and asked about the past she
would say "I'm busy now ask me later" and of course we never
discussed it again. My mother was
born in 1910 in Manchester, she had three siblings, and her mother was twice widowed and poor. They still had great fun
with the simplest things. A skipping rope (a piece of old rope, no
handles) a couple of balls bounced off a wall to rhyming songs. like "One,
two, three a'laire,..... does that ring a bell anyone?, they didn't know
'a'l'aire' was French. Standing on one's hands against a brick wall, swinging as mentioned before) from a lamppost,
hopscotch chalked on the flagstones, cricket and rounders with a bit of old
wood for a bat and an ancient tennis ball. Home-made bows and arrows for Robin Hood games etc etc. We still did a lot of
that stuff in the 1940's when I was a child. The counting rhymes were often the
same. (The origin of those would be interesting to research). Toys were hard to get in the war. Candies and fruit were very
scarce, we used to chew on liquorice root, occasionally a bit of sugar in a screw
of paper and a stick of rhubarb was a treat, and very special was a minute amount of cocoa and sugar mixed in a
little screw of paper. My mother told
me a memory of when she was a little girl and many soldiers were back from WW1(she was 8)
and despite what these men had gone through, there were few jobs. One ex soldier was standing on a corner in
Manchester playing a violin with his cap on the ground, and a few coppers in it. His hand quivered to make the texture of
the musical notes, but my mum watched him and she cried because she thought his poor hand shook because of an injury, so she
put the pennies her mother had given her to go and get a few potatoes, in his cap. Her mum was not really mad at her as her
husband had been killed 6 weeks before the end of the war, but a few pennies was a lot of money needed for food. She also told
me of how, every time she saw a picture of a German soldier in his pointed hat she would have nightmares, as she thought
Germans were coming to stab her with their hats. There was also a retired seaman who used to sit outside his house with a
large cage in which he kept a colourful but incredibly foul-mouthed parrot. He
would watch the shocked reactions of people passing, to the stream of profanities from this bird, and reward it with bits of
apple etc when it performed. Big treat, a trip to a grassy park with a bottle of water and a jam butty. The rent man
and the insurance man (to pay in the future for a respectable funeral) would knock on the doors and no one on the street
would answer. One man, mentioned by my mum, was the persistent but good-natured collector called Mr. Pease. He would lift
the letterbox as the family scurried out the back out of sight, then he'd look through it and call, 'Come on Mrs.....I know
you're in there". The purchasing
of sewing machines and such luxuries that had to go back because she couldn't pay for them, though she tried so hard. The
sharing of 'the one good coat' for special occasions. The thrill of the first radio they got. It was a 'crystal set' and
they took turns in listening to it, it was such an amazing treat to hear the
music . The 'hokey pokey' man ringing his bell. She had an older memory of being told what her grandmother, Annie Maria
Boyle (b 1863) had told the family who had come from Ireland about 1870 as a child, and who had been tossed in a sailing
ship in a frightening storm, and saw whirlpools, and thought she was never going to get off that ship alive. How I would
love to be able to ask this lady more memories. Jean Bruce *
* * *
* * *
* * * Dripping
butties wrapped up in greaseproof paper and all screwed up 'cos they had been in your pocket all day! What memories. We had
our first telly for the Coronation and most of the neighbours came in to watch as we were one of the few families with a set
- about a 9 inch screen and three foot wooden surround, such high tech!! One unhappy memory, it was my job to do the steps
with the stones you got from the rag 'n bone man! And I hated it. *
* * *
* * *
* * * Reading all of
these memories makes me want to jump on a plane and head back to the Wirral. I was raised on long walks twice a week,
usually to Thurstaston Hill and along the promenade at New Brighton. Eating Fish and Chips in the car in front of Fort Perch
Rock (because it was raining!), disappearing with friends to the "dungeons", hiding out in caves and exploring
every building site in town. Being chased by the farmers donkey across the
field and trying to be the first one across the style on the red brick walls. Smelling
the pig farm while walking to Irby village. Ice cold swims at Hoylake Baths
(which is gone and forgotten). Beating the tide to and from Hilbre Island, and the wonderful picnics we enjoyed while hanging around for the
tide to go back out. Riding horses on the beach at Meols.
Eating Walls Ice Cream. Being given a sixpence to go to Hamilton's to buy sweets - and being able to buy loads of
them. And the go-carts, I can relate to many scraped knees, bumped heads and
bleeding elbows as we all put our feet down to try to stop before hitting the concrete lamp-post.
Now, where's my cheque book for that plane ticket! Anneliese,
Dallas. *
* * *
* * *
* *
* My little story
concerns the clothing coupons we had during and after the war. I have three older sisters and always wore hand me down
clothes from them, never had anything new, so one day my Mom takes me to the Co-op Store and tells me I can pick out any
piece of clothing I wanted, I was in heaven, I wandered around the store, and finally picked out a nightie, white
flannelette with pink roses, long sleeves and high collar, my Mom was very surprised and asked, why on earth would I choose
a nightie, my reply was, well Mom, my sisters are all bigger than me, and they cant fit into this nightie, so they cant
borrow it, she laughed about that, smart thinking in those days for a twelve year old, that’s how old I was when I got the
first piece of clothing that nobody else had ever worn. Margaret in
California *
* * *
* * *
* * *
Not all things
have changed in all families!! My close friends are bringing their 3 children up in a very 1950's way. Plenty of outdoor
play with mud and water and tree climbing and bumps and bruises occur and are soothed better. At their eldest's 8th birthday
party on Sunday however I realised how things have changed, and how much today's children are cosseted and how much they can
lose in the process. The party was a magnificent Treasure Hunt but some of the children were very nervous of having even
this controlled freedom. One boy didn't see why he couldn't play on his gameboy all afternoon. The party food was picked at
because it was what most could have at anytime and of course they had all had plenty to eat before they came. The final
thing which surprised me was just as one 8 year old boy was leaving he said he was thirsty, I was clearing the table and
there was a glass of POP left so I handed it to him saying jokingly he wouldn't mind a few germs. He looked at me horrified
and refused the drink! How times have changed!!! For those with Belle Vue memories, I remember the Christmas Circus and
being terrified when one of the clowns appeared to lose his head! Trying to copy the trapeze artists tricks at the local
park and the resulting scraped knees and elbows, no safety surfaces in those days! Jean Taylor nee FAULKNER * * * * * * * * * Remember
how we used to make the 'Guy' for Guy Fawkes, begging mum for dad's old clothes, followed by the making of the 'guy',
everyone finding things to stuff him with, and finding a pushchair. Then, at last, going out with the other kids in the
street, so proud of our splendid guy ...."Penny for the Guy" could be heard everywhere. Next, buying the fireworks
with the proceeds for a street fireworks display. What fun!! Have you always loved the smell of the fireworks? I'm sure my
love of it stems from those early days, late Forties and early Fifties. The
other thing I recall is playing in the Air-Raid shelter we had in the back garden, what fun we had there,
pretending.....Buying threepence worth of chips and there was always a bottle of vinegar on the counter. Smith's crisps,
with the little blue packet of salt. Those were the days when carbonated drinks were called 'POP'.
Memories, well worth the keeping. Phyllis
Pearson, New Zealand. * * * * * * * * * A
visit to Nanna meant crayoning books in the cupboard under the telly, but, better still, playing with the shove ha'penny
board that Granddad had made. My
sister and I and a friend from up the road dug a big hole at the bottom of our garden, covered it over and spent hours in
it!!! We
went to the local Rec, spent all day there, and our parents didn't worry at all. If we were naughty we got a clip round the
ear from the "Parky". If we were good he might give us a mug of tea made on his stove in his little hut! Anne
(Fifties Child) * * * * * * * * * On
Sundays the entire family went to Grandma Dawson's house in Wallasey. What a
zoo!!! My father came from a family of six and so there were many cousins. The kids, except for the new borns (and there
always seemed to be at least one) were relegated to the parlour while the grown ups had their Tea.
I can remember wishing/hoping that some Apple Pie and Eccles Cake would be left by the grown ups, as the kids got
whatever was left over. In
retrospect, I wonder how Gran and Grandad put up with it. At the end of a visit, my Mum and sister were in the sidecar and I
would be on the pillion behind my Dad for the trip back to Ruthin in Wales. Dad
used to strap a big belt around the two of us, in case I should fall off. We
emigrated to Canada in 1950. It was many years before we were able to return to England for a visit. It came as a shock to
realise that the family didn't gather anymore. In fact, they say that the only time they see each other is when we visit
England. The next generation of cousins are all strangers to each other!. Another
memory that I have is of my Gran wrapping an old sock around my sore throat. Does anyone remember what that awful smelling
stuff was that she put on that sock? It seemed to do the trick. Remember
dashing down the hall to put pennies into the gas meter? I
Remember the Carol Singers on the street on Christmas Eve. This memory comes back every Christmas Eve when I also see my
mother making the Mince Pies. - and the bit of coal in your stocking? Marjorie
Wilson, Port Perry, Ontario, Canada. * * * * * * * * * I
remember putting a chunk of Cheshire cheese on the toasting fork and holding it over the coal fire till it melted and
allowing it to drip on the bread, then doing it again and again - cheese never tasted as good as it did when mixed with
smoke! Granddad used to go round Crewe market on Friday after work to buy the cheese- but before he chose he had a taste
from every stall. We estimated he must have eaten half a pound of cheese before
he spent a penny. Every night before he went to bed he would sit with a chunk
of cheese - about a quarter pound in weight on the point of a knife and eat it as his supper - no bread, no pickles, no
onion - just Cheshire Cheese. Dad liked his 'pobs' - bread with salt covered with boiling milk. Remember
lighting the fire with a sheet of newspaper over the chimney to get it to draw? The
times we nearly set the house of fire! Outside
loos - sheets of newspaper to use as toilet paper - going out in the pitch dark before you went to bed with a box of matches
to light the candle. But instead of lighting the candle, sticking the active end of a match in a crack between the bricks
and lighting the tail. Didn't half go off with a bang
when the flame reached the trapped head! No
bathroom until 1948. I too remember those custards when the bottom came to the
top - used to torment mom about them. And the meals we used to eat at 9pm! It
was a proper sit-down supper with a real spread - not a few bits of bread or a biscuit on a plate like nowadays. Cyril * * * * * * * * * A
cot? What was one o'them? We certainly couldn’t afford one. I spent the first few months of my life in a converted orange
box. When I was a little lad I used to run around with one of my mother’s pan’s on my head playing soldiers
- until she needed it back to make dinner. I
had a bike with different size wheels which I’d scavenged off the tip. And I used to use my foot as a brake on the
back tyre. That’s why I never had a sole on the bottom of my wellies. The
only time I got to ride in a car was when my mother was picked up by the Labour Party on voting day. And yes, we used to
make carts (again with odd-sized pram wheels) and tear around our estate like lunatics. How we didn’t got killed I’ll
never know. With regards to playing out from morning til night, I once went to my mates on Tuesday morning and didn’t get
home til Friday night and my mother never even noticed I’d been out! And
what delicacies we ate. Dripping sandwiches, banana butties, sugar butties, sauce butties, condensed milk butties and bread
toasted directly on the gas ring. Baking a potato in the fire whilst sitting in front of it trying to keep warm. Drinking
out of the same bottle that two football teams shared every Sunday morning, (and I'm still here) and when the match was
over, we’d be so hot we’d dive straight into the canal to cool down. It didn’t matter that the canal was full of
frogs, sticklebacks, leeches, old prams, bikes and very probably rats as well. As
for not having mobile phones, we didn’t have a phone of any kind until I was 29yrs old. And I well remember the first tele
we got. It had a 9 inch screen and we used to spend hour after hour adjusting the vertical hold to stop the picture spinning
round and round and round. And then the picture valve would blow and we'd have to sit around looking at each other
instead of the tele until we got a new valve. Those
were the good old days…………I think! Dave
Siddall * * * * * * * * * I
remember our holidays in Prestatyn, staying at the GOLDEN SANDS Holliday camp. Our neighbour in Alton Street Crewe owned a
railway carriage sited there and each year our family used to rent it out, it had an outside loo and my Father and
Grandfather had to take the bucket to the camp site cess pit. One year they emptied it while the wind was blowing in the
wrong direction and were they in a mess. It was a family story told for years at Christmas time. Also we used to collect
coal from the tip at the back of our house in an old pram, collecting blackberries on the way and each Sunday we would walk
from Crewe to Nantwich about 4 miles to my paternal grandmothers for tea, bringing back bags of home grown fruit and
veggies. Hazel, Australia.
If
you would like to add YOUR memories, please email them to Dave Siddall at: |